


Homesickness

by GoodJanet



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Declarations Of Love, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don has always had soft spot for Roger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homesickness

When Roger awakes, he finds himself curled against Don’s side as Don drives them down a quiet street. They must be somewhere in the suburbs.

He moves to sit up properly, and Don glances his way.

“Did I have a lot to drink?”

“Yes, Roger.”

“Too much?”

“Probably.”

“Oh.”

There’s a short pause, and Don is curious as to what he’ll say. It was always hard to tell with Roger.

“You still gonna take me to bed?”

It’s funny because either Roger wants to be tucked in with a kiss, or he’s still looking for a fuck. 

“Yeah, I’m going to take you to bed.”

Roger gives a quiet laugh.

“Knew you wouldn’t disappoint, sugar.”

Don flicks his cigarette out the window.

“Want me to pull over?”

He’s half kidding, but he lets his voice get low. Roger always likes that. 

“Jesus, would you?” Roger asks.

“Is that really what you want?”

Don slows the car down, not stopping yet.

“Still kinda tired.”

Don accelerates back up to the speed limit.

“Let’s get you home.”

“I can make it up to you.”

Don looks his way again. Roger’s eyes are half open and his hair’s a bit ruffled from sleeping on Don’s shoulder, but even in a vulnerable state, Roger is never weak. There’s a smirk at the corner of his mouth and his head is invitingly cocked to the side.

“Really?”

Roger laughs softly.

“Yeah, something Jane taught me.”

Before Don can ask for clarification, Roger’s stretching out over the seat and reaching for his belt and zipper.

“Jesus, what—?”

“Shhh, you’ll like it. Eyes on the road.”

Roger’s fingers work him up, and he has to clear his throat and readjust in his seat, which Roger seems to greatly enjoy.

Don thinks he’s got it all under control until Roger puts his mouth on him. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, which he is glad for, when suddenly he finds himself drifting into the other lane, forcing him to swerve back.

He pushes Roger away.

“Jesus, Roger. I’m pulling over.”

When they have come to a complete stop, Don angrily turns to him.

“What the hell was that? Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Oh come on. You were enjoying it.”

Don shakes his head.

“Jane’s an idiot,” Don says, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.

“Hey, don’t blame her for your lack of control. You’re the one who couldn’t keep it together.”

“Because you’re so coherent when someone’s blowing you, is that it?”

Roger’s about to make another heated remark when he sees the way Don’s sitting back against his seat, one hand still gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, the other holding the cigarette. Maybe he should’ve given Don a little more warning…

“I’m sorry, Don. You know I feel bad for ruining our evening. I drank too much and ate too little, and it all went to shit. It was supposed to be fun.”

A cloud of white smoke trails out from between Don’s pink lips. How does he appear so casual, Roger wonders, despite obviously feeling jumpy from their near-miss accident and his still-undone trousers? He looks like he could be in one of those blue magazines they had in the navy…except maybe with some guy or gal in his lap.

“Don?”

“I know.”

He passes his cigarette to Roger, takes his hand off the wheel, and proceeds to do his pants back up. Roger takes a puff and tries not to look disappointed. It wasn’t like they got a lot of opportunities to do this. And he, literally and metaphorically, blew this evening for them.

Roger passes Don his cigarette.

“Come here,” Don says, motioning for Roger to move in close.

Don lifts his arm so Roger is flush against his side. Don seeks out his mouth, bestows gentle, imploring kisses that make Roger shiver. He’s done this so many times with Betty and Megan a whole slew of other women that he tries not to think about too much or too often. The guilt would eat away at him, as if hadn’t been doing so already.

“I think I love you, Draper,” Roger says as they pull apart. “I really do.”

Don smiles a little. Looking into Roger’s whiskey-bright eyes, he knows Roger won’t remember this tomorrow. For all Don knows, he won’t even remember them nearly crashing either. 

“I love you too, Roger.”

Roger looks at him then like Don had gifted him the sun. Don ignores the lump that forms in his throat.

“Let’s get you home.”


End file.
